


Freedom

by Random_Scribbling



Series: Forever [1]
Category: Mystery Skulls (Band), Mystery Skulls Animated, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Adorable!Frisk, Badass!Lewis, Badass!Sans, Demon hand, Die jerk, Feels, Fix-It, Gen, Ghost Powers, Headcanon, Mommy!Toriel, fix all the things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:25:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6742909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Scribbling/pseuds/Random_Scribbling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis, now a ghost, has dedicated his afterlife to keeping the evil trapped in the cave and saving hikers from its plans. When he saves a certain child, however, he gets something he wasn't expecting: help. </p>
<p>Alternately, Lewis is a powerful dork, Frisk is adorable, and Sans is more helpful than you would expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So, first fanfic, but these two things got in my head and just wouldn't shut up, so now I inflict them upon you all (Mwahahahahaha)  
> More at the bottom to explain a few aspects of headcanon that may confuse some people. As expected, spoilers for Undertale and Mystery Skulls Animated, even though this is totally AU.

Frisk tips their head back, smiling up at the feeling of sun on their face. The whole gang of Toriel, Papyrus, Sans, Undyne, Alphys, and even Asgore had been able to find time to take a break and go out to the country for a camping trip. Currently their mother is reading on the blanket from lunch, Asgore enjoying a quiet cup of tea nearby. The relationship between the two is still strained, but they are living in the same house and slowly growing closer as they care for Frisk, coming together for the sake of their new child. Papyrus and Undyne are having a blast sparring and running around, darting around the trees on the edge of the clearing and shouting with joy whenever they encounter each other. The current game is ‘Rescue the Princess’, with a whooping Undyne trying to rescue a blushing Alphys from a faux-menacing Papyrus. Smiling at the antics of their family, Frisk glances around looking for the last member. 

“Yo,” a deep voice suddenly comes from behind them, and they turn to beam up at their honorary Uncle. Sans’ perpetual grin widens even further as he looks down at them. “You wanna go for a walk, kid?” He asks, observing the rest of the group in the meadow and is answered by an enthusiastic nod. 

“I heard there was a cave around here,” Frisk signs eagerly. 

“And you wanna explore?” Sans asks and is unsurprised by the kid’s bright grin. “Sure, why not,” he shrugs. “Lead the way, kiddo.” 

Frisk does just that, looking around and heading towards where they can see a dark mass rising slightly above the trees. The forest thins as the pair approach the rock rising from the earth, walking around the front of the structure to see the entrance to the cave. Sans eyes the sign marked with a skull and crossbones dubiously. 

“You sure that this isn’t a bone-headed idea?” He questions Frisk, half-serious and half-joking. The child pauses, biting their lip as they observe the entrance, and then turns to reply. 

“Yes,” they sign firmly. “Someone needs help.” 

Sans’ eyebrows rise in surprise. He knows that Frisk was more sensitive than almost anyone else when it came to soul matters, but for the kid to have sensed something from all the way in the clearing there must be an incredibly strong soul inside. With a deep sigh Sans gives the child a reassuring smile. 

“I’m with ya, kid,” he gestures into the cave, stepping up to walk beside Frisk rather than behind them in case they need help. The further they go the darker and cooler it is until the only light is a dim green glow coming from several crystals randomly studding the wall. After a few minutes they come to a crossroads. 

“High or low, short stuff?” Sans asks, and Frisk glances between the two paths for a moment before pointing down the one on the left that seems to slope gently upward. They trot along cheerfully in the lead, gazing appreciatively at the crystals and algae growing on the walls, while Sans follows close behind, eyes casting a white glow on all he sees. Green-tinted rock, green-glowing crystal, green-algae; nothing he hasn’t seen a thousand times in the Underground. But then a flash of color catches his eye. 

Frisk, a few feet ahead of him, has wandered closer to the small rocks that line the path, peering curiously at something. Just as they’re leaning forward something green darts out from the other side and wraps around their ankle. Startled, Frisk stumbles backward, looking back at Sans with an expression of pure terror for a split second before disappearing. 

“NO!” Sans shouts, lunging forward, only to freeze when a dark blur beats him to the punch. He stands at the edge of the cliff, blue eye glowing with power, as the pink and black figure floats for a moment before slowly ascending. Sans takes a step back to make room on the ledge for them to touch down. 

The rescuer appears to be another skeleton, dressed in a black suit with their ribs shining on the outside of the material. Their hands are also strange, the bones showing clearly on top of what appears to be flesh made of pure shadow. Those hands cradle Frisk carefully as the head, no more than a floating skull with a missing lower jaw, looks down at her. Strangely enough the skull is topped with glowing pink hair styled like a pompadour in the same color as the pupils showing in their eye sockets. The monster finally notices Sans staring and floats backward a little bit, holding Frisk just a little tighter and looking confused. 

“Buddy, you better hand over my niece or you’re gonna have a bad time,” Sans threatens gravely, eye sparking with power and entirely not in the mood. The stranger still hesitates, looking unsure, until Frisk comes back to the land of the living and immediately reaches for Sans. Seeming to accept this the monster glides forward and gently hands the child over before darting back several feet, hovering out of arm’s reach and observing with an expression of concern. Sans ignores them for the time being, turning all of his attention to Frisk. 

“Hey kid, you okay?” He asks, gripping their shoulders gently and kneeling to look them in the eye. The child blinks for a moment, trembling slightly, before lurching forward and wrapping Sans in a huge. The skeleton, expecting this, puts his arms around them and pats their head soothingly. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he mutters as they tremble against him. As the kid slowly calms down the stranger hovers uncertainly nearby, appearing slightly nervous. When Frisk pulls back from the hug Sans puts a hand on their head as they wipe their eyes. “So kid, did you enjoy your trip?” He jokes and is rewarded with a small smile. “Yeah, it really rocked my world, too,” he continues, one boney hand tapping at the stone floor and gaining a giggle. Satisfied that Frisk is at least safe for the moment, Sans looks over at the stranger.   
He’s hovering in every sense of the word, both floating two inches above the ground and glancing over at Frisk nervously every few seconds. When he notices Sans watching him he tenses, shrinking backward. Sans’ ever-present grin widens a fraction. 

“Thanks,” he says, straightening and holding Frisk’s hand. “I don’t wanna think about what woulda happened if you hadn’t-a been here.” Instead of relaxing the monster moves even further back, making itself as small as possible. Frisk steps forward, dragging Sans along with them, and starts signing one handed. 

“Hi! Thanks for saving me! My name’s Frisk, how about you? What kind of monster are you? Do you live here?” 

At first the stranger’s pink pupils flicker in and out in a blink and Sans worries that the monster doesn’t speak sign language, but then he replies, “I am Lewis.”   
His voice is surprisingly deep with a slight accent. Sans flicks his eyes up and down the stranger, Lewis, again, spotting the neat cravat and glowing gold heart pinned to the monster’s chest. 

“And…” Lewis starts to continue, but trails off, staring down at his hands and flexing them experimentally. After a second he makes two fists and straightens, the motion making him seem much larger. “I’m not a monster,” he states firmly before faltering. “At least I don’t think I am. I think I might be a ghost?” 

Sans tilts his head as he considers Lewis. Frisk seems to accept everything without question, marching forward and reaching up for the strange bone-shadow hand that is just out of reach. Lewis’ eyes flicker again before he slowly descends, black shoes meeting the stone floor as his hand slips around Frisk’s smaller one, nearly engulfing it in darkness.   
Frisk lets go of Sans for a moment to sign, “Come on! I want you to meet my family! They’ll love you, and I think you’ll like them, too.” 

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoody, Sans follows close behind as the taller skeleton ghost is pulled along by the tiny human. When they reach the entrance Lewis hesitates, holding one hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Frisk smiles up at him gently, waiting for the larger monster to look down at them before moving forward. 

“So you never answered the kid’s question,” Sans remarks quietly as Frisk leads them through the forest, having let go of Lewis’ hand in order to sign more quickly. The taller being shoots him a questioning look in between watching Frisk tell them about one of their many adventures at Toriel’s school. “Do ya live in that cave?” Lewis stiffens noticeably and slows for a moment, turning his full attention to Sans. 

“I died there,” he answers the question before moving to catch up with Frisk. Sans, mulling over the answer, teleports to catch up, blinking into existence next to Lewis with barely a thought and chuckling quietly at how the larger being jumps in surprise. 

“How did you do that?” Lewis asks, tone fascinated, and Sans’ grin widens. 

“Magic,” he responds just to see the other man’s reaction. Lewis doesn’t speak for a moment, obviously thinking over that reply, before deciding, “Cool.”   
When the odd trio emerges into the picnic clearing the two skeletons pause, allowing Frisk to run on ahead and jump on Toriel, distracting the goat-woman from her book with a laugh. 

“That’s Toriel, Frisk’s mom,” Sans informs Lewis quietly. “Next to her is Asgore, the monster king. My brother, Papyrus, and Undyne are the two playing over there, and with Undyne’s girlfriend Alphys as the princess.” 

“Damn right she’s the princess,” a rough voice declares loudly from nearby, making Lewis jump as a blue scaly arm is suddenly wrapped around his shoulders. He barely catches sight of bright red hair and one yellow eye before a fist is rubbing against his skull, extinguishing his hair and giving him a harsh noogie. 

“Undyne!” Alphys shouts, blushing, as Papyrus reaches around Lewis to shove at the former guard. 

“Undyne! We do not noogie new friends!” He exclaims scoldingly, wrapping his arms around Lewis’ chest and bodily dragging the only slightly shorter skeleton away from the fish woman. The pink monster squawks in protest of the treatment even as Papyrus sets him down and puts his hands on Lewis’ shoulders, grinning broadly at him. The expression doesn’t change even as the ghost’s hair reignites with a sharp ‘poof’ of flame. 

“Hello new friend! I am the great Papyrus, spaghettore extraordinaire! What is your name?” The enthusiastic skeleton asks, pure white pupils shining with happiness. 

“Uh…” Taken aback by the sudden movement and the loud voice Lewis can only release a weak wheeze.   
“His name’s Lewis,” Sans interjects helpfully. 

“Ah, thank you brother! Lewis! I have decided that we will be friends! I will make you special spaghetti to celebrate our friendship!” Papyrus’ declarations of friendship are cut off when Undyne body-checks the skinnier skeleton, knocking him away and taking his place. She grins toothily at the taller monster. 

“Hey, punk! The name’s Undyne!” She holds out her hand to shake and Lewis hesitantly grasps it, drawing a slight frown from the guardswoman. “Come on, you call that a handshake? That’s so wimpy! Grip it tighter,” she orders. Blinking rapidly Lewis obeys, his hand clenching tightly around Undyne’s and shaking tightly. The resulting smile is almost frightening. 

“That’s more like it! I think we’ll get along just fine, punk!” She steps back and gives Lewis a thumbs up before shooting a sly smirk at the dinosaur who’s been standing off to the side the whole time. “Hey Papyrus,” she calls. “You forgot to guard the princess!” 

As Undyne scoops up Alphys and runs, Papyrus squawking with indignation and running after her, Lewis stumbles in the direction of the picnic blanket and nearly falls into a seated position. Blinking in slight shock at so much contact after being left alone in the cave, he looks up at Toriel, who is sitting calmly next to him. Frisk has run off and is assisting Papyrus in getting the ‘princess’ back from the ‘dragon’. 

“Hello,” she greets him quietly. “I am told that you saved my child, Frisk. I can’t thank you enough, Lewis, and I am very pleased to meet you.” With that the mother pulls him into a gentle hug, wrapping one arm securely around his shoulders and pulling him close. Lewis goes without resistance, still stunned, but when the situation finally hits him he begins to cry. Silently, pink tears drip down his skull, speckling the front of his suit with dots of magenta before they fade away. Toriel feels the gentle shaking of Lewis’ shoulders and looks down in concern. 

“My child, what’s wrong?” She asks worriedly, turning slightly to face the skeleton ghost head on and putting both arms around him. The former queen feels him take a deep breath before steadying, looking up at her with embarrassed pink eyes. 

“I am sorry,” Lewis apologizes, voice thick with tears. “It is has just been a while since I last spoke to someone, and everyone at once is a little overwhelming.” When he goes to scrub away the tears that still linger at the edges of his eye sockets Toriel’s paws keep his arms at his sides until one lifts to wipe the phantom liquid away with one padded finger.   
“I’m sorry it took us so long to get here,” she says firmly. 

“What did you mean you died in that cave?” Sans asks when Lewis has recovered slightly, teleporting over to lounge on the blanket next to the other skeleton and Toriel, forming a rough triangle. 

“I used to be part of a group,” Lewis begins, before lifting one hand and rubbing bashfully at the back of his skull. “I say group, but really it was me, my girlfriend, Vivi, Arthur, and Vivi’s dog Mystery. We called ourselves the Mystery Skulls and travelled around the country in Arthur’s van looking for the supernatural. Eventually our search led us to that cave.” Here he shudders. 

“There were rumors, of course, of several cults using the cave for sacrifices, of a ghost haunting it, and the odd hiker falling to his death. Vivi, of course, decided it was perfect and decided that we had to check it out.” Lewis’ voice turns fond when speaking of his love, one hand moving to his chest and rubbing lightly at the surface of the golden heart pinned there. “So we did. Vivi and Mystery went down the lower path, while Arthur and I took the higher. All was going well, but I felt shivers up my spine. And then…”   
Lewis trails off, staring at the blanket under his legs. When he speaks again it is slow, halting, as if every word is painful. “I was just looking over the edge, counting the spikes and trying to see if Vivi had made it to the center safely. I turned around and Arthur was there and everything was green and then he pushed me. Arthur pushed me, right off the ledge, and I fell. And just before I hit the bottom…” Lewis has to stop again, his hand fisting around the gold heart as he forces himself to continue. “Vivi was there. She saw me fall, saw me… All I could think was ‘I don’t want her to remember me like this’. Then everything was pink, and people were screaming, and it hurt… And then I woke up, alone, a skeleton in the cave.” 

Lewis falls silent for a moment, then takes a deep breath and looks at Sans. “It’s good that you didn’t take Frisk down the low path,” he states firmly. 

“Why’s that?” Sans questions. Lewis makes a valiant attempt at a grimace. 

“For one thing they never recovered my body. For another, there’s something seriously evil in that cave.” He shudders, the action sending a wave of motion up his spine. “I couldn’t sense it when I was human, but as a ghost it’s hard to miss.” Sans tilts his head, considering, and remembers the creeping feeling of unease that he had felt crawling up his own spinal column when they got to the crossroads. When he mentions this to Lewis the skeleton ghost gives off the impression of a grim smile. 

“Yes; when I woke up I started fighting the evil, trying to keep it away from anyone who entered the cave. That’s why I was nearby when Frisk fell,” Lewis answers. “It used to be much stronger; people could sense it from the cave entrance and stay back, but since it’s weakened more people are coming. I won’t be able to hide for long, but if I leave the evil will simply retake the cave and start killing people again.” 

“Again?” Sans asks. Lewis nods. 

“I’ve had a lot of time to explore, being dead, and I’ve found more bodies than just mine. None of them stayed, though; they probably made peace with their fate and moved on.” Lewis’ heart, which had been beating slowly in time with a regular human heartbeat and glowing a steady orange, has dimmed slightly, the color darkening to something closer to umber. 

“Then there’s only one thing to do,” Toriel says firmly. “We must take care of this.” Lewis blinks in shock, skeleton hand clutching at his ‘heart’ in surprise.   
“What?” He gapes. The former queen nods firmly. 

“Lewis, I’m not sure if you know this, but we are monsters,” Toriel explains. “Our bodies are our souls and vice versa. If this evil is as dangerous as you say it could corrupt any monsters who come into this area. As former queen, this cannot be allowed.” Toriel, even kneeling on a blanket and dressed like a housewife in jeans and an old flannel shirt, sits up primly, every inch a queen, and Lewis feels a little bit awed. The goat-woman gets to her feet. 

“Allow me to get Asgore, he will want to be involved in this as well,” she says, already moving to retrieve the idle king. Lewis looks over at Sans, who is still observing him.   
“Is she always like that?” He asks, gesturing to Toriel, and Sans’ grin widen slightly. 

“Yeah, you get used to it,” he chuckles lightly before going serious. “You know your friend might not have killed you, right?” Lewis blinks. 

“What?” But before he can demand Sans elaborate Toriel returns with Asgore and Lewis has to fight the urge to run. The monster is over seven feet tall with his horns, and even his simple jeans and bright Hawaiian shirt aren’t enough to hide the strength in his broad shoulders. He makes Lewis, who is used to being one of the larger people in the room, feel like a child. It gets better when the king sits down, crossing his legs and looking serious as the impromptu meeting turns into a council of war. 

“Tori tells me that there is a threat,” he rumbles, his deep voice sending vibrations through Lewis’ bones, and the ghost allows himself a small shudder as he summarizes everything to Asgore. The king listens quietly, absorbing the information, and then asks questions. Where did he first see the evil? Where is it strongest? Does it make any sign of its presence? Is it physical, has he ever seen this evil, or only felt it? Lewis answers as best he can, describing the creeping green fog that tells him when it is growing strong, how he’s never seen the evil take form but has heard a strange skittering deep within the green, and how he never dares go deeper in the cave than the stalagmite pit, having felt the deep evil radiating from the darkness. 

“How have you even fought such a thing?” Asgore inquires, sounding slightly impressed. In answer Lewis opens one skeleton hand to reveal a palm-full of pink flames. Toriel is delighted, making a fist of her own before holding out her own hand, now cradling a dollop of purple fire, out to Lewis. 

“Can you do anything else?” She asks happily, smiling when Lewis nods enthusiastically. Asgore, sensing a tangent, lightly puts one paw on Toriel’s wrist. 

“We will have plenty of time to compare magic later,” he says firmly. “For now we should plan an attack. Did you and you friends discover anything that could be the source of this evil when you investigated the first time?” Lewis hesitates, thinking back to events almost a year old. 

“I remember something Vivi said,” he answers slowly. “She mentioned a cult had once used the cave as a place to perform sacrifices to some demon. I can’t remember the name of the cult, or the demon, but I do recall that much.” Asgore’s frown has deepened. 

“This is quite serious,” he rumbles thoughtfully. “It should not have been left for this long.” He mutters a curse. “For the first time I actually wish that there were some human magicians left,” his mouth twists wryly. “They would have taken care of this long before it could become a problem.” Lewis nods, not entirely sure what the monster is talking about but willing to go along with it. 

“We will all go to the cave tonight when the evil is most active, hunt it down, and destroy the source of this darkness once and for all,” Asgore finally decrees. 

“Alphys can watch Frisk while we take care of things,” Sans mentions, sounding bored, before standing and extending a hand to Lewis. “Come on, bud, let’s see what fancy tricks you can do,” he grins. When Lewis does take his hand he immediately pops them to the center of the clearing, watching in amusement as the taller skeleton stumbles at the sudden change in position. 

“That was awful,” he grimaces, voice thick with nausea before he straightens. Toriel walks over at a normal pace, already calls fire to her paws. Lewis, straightening, does the same, his hands shining with pink flames. 

“Let’s see what you can do, child,” Toriel says before tossing one of her fireballs at Lewis. The ghost, instead of dodging or shooting his own blast, simply catches the other flame, adding it to his own. The fire that forms his hair flickers and sparks in excitement. 

“Watch me,” Lewis says with an audible grin before he begins the show. He starts small, tossing one ball up and forming another to juggle the three orbs of flame. When he has all three spinning suddenly he steps back. Instead of falling to the grass the fires continue to circle, jumping and falling as if being thrown by invisible hands. The three balls break ranks, shifting from their circle pattern to fly back to their creator, rolling along his shoulders like a basketball player with a ball and down his arm. When the spheres reach his wrist Lewis flicks his hand up, sending them soaring into the air nearly ten feet above his head. All three fires then split into dozens of smaller flames, dancing and circling in intricate rings through the air. Suddenly they cluster, forming rings not unlike a target, with three dense groups of sparks near the middle. Back on the ground, Lewis forms another handful of flames, tossing it up and down like a baseball player eyeing a target, before throwing it and two others at the center of the rings one after the other in the blink of an eye. The circles burst, one after another, forming pink fireworks that sparkle in the air for a moment before they return to their master, disappearing into Lewis’ suit as his hair settles back into its usual pompadour. 

“What do you think?” He asks, looking down at his audience as the last of the magic sparks fade away. Sans’ grin has drooped a little, his eye sockets wide as they blink away the bright after images of the fireworks, and Toriel is smiling happily. She looks to be about to say something when a small weight hits Lewis in the stomach. 

“That was so cool!” Frisk signs gleefully, wrapping their arms around Lewis and squeezing them tight. “I didn’t know you could do fire like Mom can! And that whip! Awesome!”

“I agree with the human,” Papyrus declares from where he and Undyne have come to stand beside Sans. “That display was extremely cool! I am glad to be friends with someone almost as cool as I am!” 

“Don’t you mean it was hot, Pap?” Sans inquires innocently, getting over the shock of seeing such a young spirit be able to do so much with their magic and enjoying the shriek of rage his brother releases at hearing the pun. 

“I gotta admit, that was pretty cool, punk,” Undyne compliments as Papyrus berates his brother. “How long have you been working with magic?” 

“Nearly a year,” Lewis replies. Undyne’s eyebrows arch in surprise. 

“That was quite impressive,” Toriel finally manages to get a word in. “Is there anything else you can do?” Lewis hesitates. 

“There is one thing,” he admits after a moment, and closes his eyes. He hasn’t done this since the last time he had to lead a group of hikers out of the cave, but it is just as easy as the last time. Focusing, he concentrates on the flames that are his magic and drapes them over himself like a warm sheet. A round of gasps from his audience lets him know that he’s succeeded, and Lewis opens his normal brown eyes to look down at his seemingly human hands. The monsters, meanwhile, gape at the human in front of them.   
He’s kept his height, still only a half inch shorter than Papyrus, and his hair is still dark pink, but otherwise he appears totally human. His suit has been exchanged for black dress shoes, dark magenta pants, and a white dress shirt underneath a magenta vest and ascot. His skin is tanned, and he offers the monsters a shy smile. 

“This is what I was wearing the day I died,” he remarks, trying to break the silence. “Vivi is the one who picks out all our clothes, so, that’s why all the pink…” He trails off awkwardly. Frisk finally smiles even wider than before and darts back to hug him again. 

“That’s super cool! You’re like a secret agent or something, detective by day, ghost by night,” they sign. Papyrus and Undyne move closer as well, poking Lewis and exclaiming over the reality of the illusion, while Alphys hangs back with Sans and Toriel. 

“He’s so young,” Toriel says sadly as she watches Lewis hoist Frisk onto his shoulders and smile up at them. At Papyrus and Undyne’s urging Lewis declares, “I, the evil sorcerer, have captured the royal Frisk and am kidnapping them forever and ever!” 

“No! Vile fiend!” Papyrus shouts back. “I, the Great Papyrus and the Fantastic Undyne will stop you!” 

That sparks a game of chase as Lewis runs around, Frisk gripping tightly to the illusion hair as they are pursued by the shouting former royal guards. Lewis proves slippery prey, ducking and dodging around the two with skill honed from dodging ghost attacks. The game comes to a point when Papyrus and Undyne manage to corner the ghost in a corner of the meadow with nowhere to run. Frisk’s grip tightens as they watch their friends close in. Expecting Lewis to either surrender or make a last minute dodge, they are all surprised when the ghost smirks and stand straight and relaxed. 

“You may think that you have won, but you forget! I am a mighty sorcerer, and will not be defeated!” Lewis declares before the illusion vanishes, leaving Frisk to clasp onto a clean white skull as the ghost launches himself into the air. Papyrus and Undyne protest the move as Frisk nearly whoops with joy. The clearing shrinks slightly beneath them as Lewis soars almost ten feet above the ground, adjust himself and Frisk so that they are sitting on his back as he floats through the air on his stomach, propping the bottom of his skull on his bone-shadow hands and crossing his legs at the ankle. He lounges in the air like a teen girl in her bed, looking down smugly at Papyrus and Undyne. 

“Get down here and fight like a man, punk!” Undyne protests, shaking her fist at the ghost mock-angrily. 

“Don’t worry, Undyne, I’ll solve this!” Papyrus exclaims. Lewis watches curiously as the skeleton’s white eyes blink out, replaced by a single glowing orange eye, and suddenly a bone made of energy and colored a dark blue comes at him. 

“Hold still,” Frisk signs quickly, just in time as Lewis freezes midair. The bone passes through him harmlessly and the ghost is about to heave a sigh of relief when suddenly staying airborne is much harder. He grunts as a blue sheen covers him from skull to shoes and he drops suddenly, prompting Frisk to tighten their hold on his suit. Still fighting the pull, Lewis flips over onto his back and wraps his arms around the child. With the blue magic hindering his every move Lewis says quickly, “Climb inside my jacket, Frisk.” 

They obey, slipping in between shirt and jacket off to the side so that they are pinned between the somewhat solid mass of Lewis’ invisible torso and the bones of his ribs outside the jacket. Turning back to the still grinning Papyrus and a slightly concerned Undyne, Lewis scowls.

“Hold on tight,” he mutters to Frisk before putting on a truly terrified expression and letting the blue magic yank him harshly toward the ground. As Lewis nears the forest floor he sees Papyrus frantically try to adjust his pull, but it is too little too late. Just before he hits the ground Lewis curls, putting his legs beneath him and fighting upward with all his strength. He still lands rather roughly, but it is far gentler than what could have happened. Papyrus and Undyne immediately rush over, anxious, and Papyrus wilts under Lewis’ glare. 

“That was a foolish move,” he grumbles at the skeleton. “Had I not reacted quickly enough someone could have been hurt!”

Frisk pokes their head out of Lewis’ jacket enough to give Papyrus a reproving look. The skeleton fairly wails out his apology as he whisks the human out of hiding, hugging them tightly and promising not to use his magic without thinking again. Tired from fighting the pull of the blue magic Lewis begs off playing again to rejoin Toriel, Asgore, and Sans on the blanket. Alphys has joined the group, and he can hear the others explaining the situation to her as he approaches. In another unconscious display of power Lewis pulls his legs into a crossed position midair before floating gently down to land on the blanket. With a flash of pink flame his ghostly pompadour is restored to its former glory and he sighs with relief. 

“So,” he begins, smiling invisibly. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much,” Sans answers, lying down on the blanket and looking up at the sky, eyes almost closed. “They’re just telling Alphys what’s up. Speaking of up…” Sans opens one eye to look up at Lewis with the bright blue pupil. “I woulda caught you, no worries. But thanks for not getting too mad at Pap; he needs to learn how to control himself.” Lewis nods in understanding. He had had the same feelings whenever Arthur had cooked up some dangerous contraption or installed a new upgrade on the van that ‘totally won’t blow up, Lewis, I swear, that was one time!’. The thought of Arthur reminds him and Lewis looks back down at Sans. 

“What did you mean when you said Arthur might not have killed me?” The short skeleton opens his eye again, taking in Lewis’ serious expression, and sighs. He sits up. 

“I’ve dealt with evil before, nothing what you’re describing, but still evil. It didn’t have a body of its own, so it tried to take control of people. You had to have a really strong soul to push it out, but it caused a lot of problems before we finally defeated it,” Sans explains. “Now if your evil didn’t have a body of its own…” He trails off with a shrug.   
“It might have tried to control Arthur,” the word leave Lewis in an awed whisper. He considers it for a moment, mind spinning, but he manages to ask one more question. “Is there anything that would make someone easy to control?” He asks, eyes on Sans. The skeleton nods. 

“Yeah. Most of the time people who were having a bad time were the easiest for the evil to take over, jumping from host to host like some kind of rabbit,” the skeleton replies. His voice is quiet, remembering six bright child-souls all tainted red and grey with monster dust as they make their way to Asgore. Lewis flops backward, arms spreading wide as his mind grapples with the dilemma. Arthur, quiet but happy for them with Lewis and Vivi announced their relationship; Arthur, worried they were going to kick him out to solve mysteries without him; the way Arthur had clung to him that night in the cave when they split up; the screams after he fell, Vivi’s shriek of despair mingling with Arthur’s shout of horror. 

“Arthur didn’t kill me,” he states, tasting the words as they emerge. “Arthur didn’t kill me.” He blinks, unsure how to react. The burning anger that he had for Arthur, fueled by betrayal and fear for Vivi now that Lewis is out of the picture, is gone, but as he considers that anger is replaced. Rage blooms like an exotic flower, rage at the evil that killed him, that used one of his friends, one closer than a brother, to do so, rage that his friends thought him lost all because of some creeping evil that he still fought. 

“That evil must be destroyed,” he growls, hands clenching into fists. Sans, able to read skeleton body language better than anyone, has watched in silence as the ghost first struggled with the information and then became angry. 

“Tonight,” Sans agrees, his smile a bit wider and a bit more bloodthirsty than before. 

“Lewis!” The somber mood is broken by Toriel’s call. The goat woman is apparently discussing things with Asgore and is moving towards the supplies the group had brought. “Will you help me with supper?” 

The ghost complies, assisting the former queen in making a large pot of chili. As the group sits down to eat, they all exclaim over how good it is. Sans notices that Lewis is stirring his food disinterestedly despite having eyed it hungrily while it cooked. Lewis, noticing the other’s look, grimaces. 

“I’m a ghost, remember? I can’t eat,” he explains lowly. Sans’ grin widens. Is that all? 

“You know this is monster food, right?” He points out, slurping a spoonful of chili from his spoon into the dark space behind his teeth. “It’s good for the soul; literally.” Lewis still looks confused. Sans rolls his eyes. “Look, just turn human and try it,” he orders before going back to his food. The kid can really cook! Unsure, Lewis obeys, quietly forming the human illusion and taking a spoonful of warm chili.   
Carefully he puts it in his mouth. Instead of falling right through the illusion and right to the inside of his suit, like all other food before, Lewis hides a gasp as the flavors hit him. The savor of the meat, the spice of the peppers, the unifying sweetness of the tomatoes, things he hadn’t experienced in over a year, linger on his tongue for a moment before vanishing like a mouthful of cotton candy. Flabbergasted, Lewis glances downward and his gaze catches on the heart pinned to his chest. The locket, which he knows is the anchor for his soul and therefore represents himself, is shining just a bit more brightly than normal. Looking back up the ghost sees Sans grinning at him. 

“What did I tell ya? Good for the soul,” he chuckles. Lewis decides to set aside his disbelief for the time being, focusing on enjoying the first food he’s eaten in more than a year. By the time his spoon has scraped the bottom of the bowl everyone else has finished and is cleaning up. Lewis’ offers to help are rebuffed and he soon finds himself parked back on the blanket with Sans. 

“How could I eat the food?” He asks curiously. Sans rolls his eyes. 

“Kid, you’re a ghost, sure, but right now you’re more like a monster than a human. Monster food sends energy straight to the soul, no messing around with physical bodies; that’s why you can eat it,” he explains and then eyes the young man up and down. “Good thing, too; it seems to have done you some good.” 

“Huh?” Lewis looks himself over, confused again. Sans gestures with one hand for the skeleton to come closer. When they’re sitting side by side Sans’ eye glows blue, a sign of his magic working. 

“Now, this is what monsters see when they check you with their magic,” the skeleton begins, waving one hand through the air. Lewis, squinting, can just make out the letters. 

LEWIS – LV 1, ATK 40, DEF 50, HP ∞. An excellent cook, this ghost will do anything to protect his friends.   
The ghost in question blinks in surprise. 

“They can really tell all that just by checking me?” He asks. Sans shrugs. 

“The basics, sure, but the description tends to vary. See, they can all tell that you don’t want to hurt anyone, but you can if you gotta, not to mention that you won’t go down easy,” the skeleton explains. The ghost considers the implications of this and shrugs. 

“Good; it isn’t anything untrue,” he declares before getting roped into helping Alphys and Frisk choose an anime for their movie night. 

As the sun sets Alphys and Papyrus distract Frisk with an anime movie night on one of the laptops that she was able to upgrade (free wi-fi everywhere, twenty-four hour batter, plus it turns into a hover board!). Lewis leads the group to the cave. Asgore is every inch the warrior king, striding through the underbrush like he’s going to war, and Toriel is much the same, flanking her husband with Undyne, both women solemn and determined. Of them all Sans has changed the least, still slouching along behind them and popping up front whenever he falls too far behind. None of them notice that his eyes have changed from casual white pinpricks to a single blue orb. Lewis stops in front of the entrance, turning to the group. 

“This evil is strong, but I’ve managed to push it to the ground floor of the cave. Past the stalagmites there is a tunnel. That’s where I found most of the bodies, and I’ve never gone inside. That is where the evil is hiding,” he informs them. His hair, normally calm and restrained, is much larger than normal, and flickering wildly enough that it more closely resembles a campfire than a pompadour. 

That said, Asgore takes the lead, Lewis beside him with the women and Sans bringing up the rear. This time upon reaching the crossroad the group takes the downward path, slipping deeper into the dim light of the cave. When the passage opens up it is to a small forest of stalagmites. Some of them are as large as the trees outside with huge bases making the path rather thin at points. Glancing up and to the left, Lewis doesn’t make a sound when he spots a small patch of dark pink fabric, soaked dark red, still clinging to one of the spires. A touch at his elbow brings him back to earth, and the ghost looks down to see a grinning Sans nudging his elbow. 

“This is a pretty cool cave,” he says deliberately. “In fact, you could even say it’s stalag-tight.”   
Lewis rolls his eyes at the horrible pun, but the tension is broken, and he’s slightly more relaxed as he follows Asgore to the back of the cavern. The stalagmites have thinned, and the entrance to the rest of the cave looms before them. Mist snakes along the floor, the green light from the crystals casting an eerie light on the entire space. 

“Toriel,” Asgore rumbles, fists tightening as he glares into the shadows. At her name the goat woman steps forward. With a gesture she sends two dozen bright orange fireballs flying into the darkness. They spread out, finding the walls of the cave and hovering there, their light chasing away the shadows. The floor near the front of the tunnel is clear, but a few yards in the group spots several stick-like things littering the ground. 

“How many bodies did you say you found,” Sans asks quietly. 

“Four; I took them to the entrance and made sure the police found them, but I never even suspected…” Lewis trails off. The entire tunnel is a macabre den, bones arranged in strange patterns on the floor. Skulls line the walls, empty eye sockets staring inward like silent sentinels, with ribs used to make symbols in between the larger shapes formed of the other bones. 

“There must be two dozen people here,” Lewis mumbles, eyes darting around. Disgusted and horrified, he turns his head from the sight. Catching a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, Lewis shouts and turns fully to face their backs, hands bursting into flame. The fog, turned a thicker, more poisonous green, is seeping into the tunnel, forming a solid wall where the rest of the cave used to be. Standing defensively, Lewis’ eyes try to pierce the fog as a slight skittering sound reaches him. Spotting something moving in the fog he yells again, blasting at it. The fire makes a scorch mark on the floor but misses the creature by a hair, leaving it to dash back into the murk. Fog floods the tunnel, remaining at knee height for Lewis and ensnaring all of them until all they can see is each other and the green. The five fighters gather in the center of the clearing, back to back as they all search the fog. 

Suddenly Toriel gasps as the fog surges around her and a hand grasps her ankle. The goat-woman is trapped in her own mind, screaming as the evil in the fog rifles through her memories. She sees again the children she could not save, her despair when Frisk decided to leave the Ruins, the anger she still feels at Asgore for killing the children. The evil latches on to that, to her anger at Asgore, and pulls. How dare he even walk in the sunlight after murdering children, innocent lives lost to his trident and desire for revenge? Toriel grits her teeth. No! She had made her peace with her husband, able to understand his grief and rage. He had paid for his crimes a hundred fold, imprisoning himself in the palace. In place of her memories of losing the children she calls up her own memories, those of her husband finding each family, the descendants of the missing, and talking to them. Some had yelled, or screamed, but a few were understanding. She had forgiven Asgore; it would not use her anger to control her! Shrieking in rage the fog retreated back to the floor and her ankle was released. 

“It can see into our minds, it tries to control using emotions,” Toriel reports shakily. The words have barely left her mouth before Undyne is taken. In an instant she’s back in the Underground, trapped in the darkness, chasing a short figure. How dare this human flee, how dare they keep the monsters trapped down here in the dark? She’s so angry, at the mages who first trapped them here, at the barrier forcing her king to kill, at having to kill a child, and at the child for daring to run. The fog yanks at this anger, trying to twist it to its purposes, but Undyne grits her teeth. No! She’s seen the sun, no one has to kill anyone anymore! With a howl of rage Undyne summons a spear and stabs at the ground near her feet. The energy strikes the floor but misses the creature, which scuttles off. 

“Lewis!” Undyne calls in warning just as his ankle is snatched and he’s plunged into his memories. Arthur, shoving him off the cliff; Arthur, laughing with Vivi, an arm around her shoulders; Arthur and Vivi, alone in the van after his death; isn’t he angry that he didn’t get the chance to be with her? That Arthur betrayed him, KILLED him, and for what? For Vivi, so that he could have her all to himself! A day ago Lewis would have been furious, raging at his friend and an easy target. But today? Lewis brushes off the anger with a grim chuckle, remembering long nights laughing with Arthur in the front of the van while Vivi slept in the back; cuddling up to both of his best friends during a movie night, him and Arthur both clutching Vivi at the scary parts; telling Arthur that he and Vivi were dating and, instead of anger and rejecting, receiving an eye roll and a smug ‘duh!’. He is released as if the hand is burned by the happy thoughts and, thwarted three times in a row, it moves to the last in line. 

“Watch out, Sans!” Lewis warns just as the skeleton’s ankle is grasped in a furious grip. The skeleton, eye glowing a dangerous blue, merely grins wider at the array of memories playing before him. Papyrus, dead; Frisk, dead; Gaster, his father, long dead, turned to dust by the Core; Undyne, Frisk pinned on her spear; Alphys, standing over a murderous Mettaton as it slices Frisk to pieces; all of them, true in one timeline or another, but Sans just smiles. 

“If there’s one thing that I’m good at, it’s letting go of the past,” he grins before casually leaning down and catching hold of the thing that had grasped his ankle. He pulls it, struggling, from the mist, which begins to toss like a stormy sea as its power source is removed. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Sans calls, running through the fog and out to the main cavern. The rest follow, nearly plowing into the stalagmites in their mad dash to the surface. The fog seems to follow them to the mouth of the cave only to halt at the entrance, writhing against an invisible wall as they all catch their breath. Undyne spots what’s in Sans’ hand first and grimaces, standing. “Ugh, what is that?” She questions, cringing. 

“What’s it look like,” the skeleton retorts. Lewis, who has been staring at the strange fog, turns, catches sight of the thing trapped in Sans’ hand, and stumbles back in horror. Wriggling in the skeleton’s hand is a human arm, the skin turned a sickly green by whatever is possessing it. Nestled in the palm is a single eye with black sclera surrounding a neon pupil. Perhaps the most horrifying thing, though, is the wristband still wrapped around the creature’s wrist; the wristband that, before being dragged around the cave floor for a year, might have once been a particular shade of yellow orange. 

“Arthur,” Lewis barely breathes, frozen in shock for a mere moment. And then the shock gives way to blinding, unending rage. That was Arthur’s arm, torn free of his body; was his friend one of the bodies he had not found, a skeleton rotting away in the back of the cave? 

Furious and in despair, Lewis lunges at Sans with a growl. Taken by surprise the skeleton pops back a few feet, dropping the arm. The enraged ghost snatches the gruesome thing from the air, not allowing it to strike the earth and possibly escape. With a mighty heave he throws the possessed limb high into the air before zooming after it, pink flames already burning in his palm. He launches the fire at the arm, which somehow manages to screech without a mouth. Gone is the meticulously controlled fire, the light show, the art of the magic; all that is left is the brutal, punishing destruction, the beauty of total carnage rained down on those deserving of it. Lewis screams his rage to the heavens as he unleashes a barrage of magenta fire at the arm, the force propelling it away from him. In a flash Lewis has flown to intercept it and launched another batch of fireballs at the thing, repeating the action until what finally falls to earth is nothing more than a fragile, blackened bone. Lewis lands beside it, eye sockets blank, dark holes, and, calling up one last handful of fire, completely eradicates all traces of what had once been a fairly powerful demon. He stands there for a moment, shoulders shaking as he breathes heavily and stares down at the scorched and blackened earth, before he sighs and the light returns to his sockets. Turning, the ghost looks at the four who had accompanied him into the depths of the cave. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he offers apologetically, reaching up to rub the back of his skull with one hand. “But the wristband, on the arm… It belonged to Arthur. That was Arthur’s arm,” he tries to explain, only for Sans to reach up and pat him on the shoulder. 

“We get it,” the skeleton brushes off his actions with a grin. “C’mon, let’s get back to camp; I wanna catch the rest of that anime.” Lewis looks at the others, unsure, but Toriel and Asgore are already walking away, hand in hand and talking quietly. Undyne strolls along behind them, arms crossed casually behind her head. So Lewis lets Sans lead him back to the small circle of tents that the seven campers had set up earlier that afternoon. Alphys has stretched a sheet between a pair of trees and is using it as a screen to project the movie on while she, Frisk, and Papyrus stretch out on a blanket in front of it. The trio accepts the arrival of the others without a thought, cheerfully explaining what they had missed and how great the movie was so far. Toriel and Asgore beg off finishing the film, claiming tiredness, but Undyne and Sans plop right down. Lewis, after a moment of debate, settles in next to Sans to watch the movie. Perhaps later he could convince Alphys to play a little Sailor Moon. 

XXXXX

For the first time since his death it isn’t the low noises of hikers or simply having enough sleep that wakes him up: it’s a bunch of quiet giggles and frantic shushing noises. Opening his eyes, the ghost blinks at the mischievous faces of Frisk and Sans. 

“What are you doing?” He asks quietly, and only receives matching evil grins in response. Lewis sits up, stretching, and looks around. He fell asleep on the blanket last night in the middle of an episode of Sailor Moon, which Alphys had been happy to play. Papyrus was stretched out nearby, still snoring, and… Lewis blinks at the doodles inked across the bone of the slightly taller skeleton’s skull. There’s a traditional skulls and crossbones near his eye brow, a fancy mustache scrawled across his upper lip, and a monocle circling one eye with a scribbled chain leading off towards his ear. Covering his mouth with one hand Lewis stops a laugh, chuckling silently at Papyrus, before stopping suddenly. What if they had drawn something on his face? 

The ghost glances around for a moment before finding a cellphone left abandoned on the blanket. He quickly opens the camera app and takes a picture. Sure enough there is a complex pattern of whorls and vines framing his face, along with a happy face doodled right between his eye sockets. Scowling, Lewis sends a wave of flame up his face. The fire burns away the ink, but releases a cloud of noxious smoke that makes the ghost cough and scoot backwards. The rank smell and Lewis’ coughing is enough to finally wake Papyrus, who knows what’s happened the moment he sees markers in Sans and Frisk’s hands. The tallest skeleton shrieks in outrage and chases the laughing pair around the campsite until everyone is thoroughly awake. 

Toriel and Asgore, at least, seem amused, clutching quickly-made cups of coffee and watching the three scramble around with amusement. Undyne is less thrilled but is at least drowning her frustration in a much larger cup of coffee, eye-patch askew and hair messy from sleep. Alphys is in the middle, still half-asleep and more interested in cuddling with her slightly grumpy girlfriend than drinking the coffee in front of her. Lewis drifts over to the sitting quartet, floating idly next to Toriel. 

“Now that the evil is vanquished, what will you do?” The woman asks after a moment, eyeing the ghost curiously. Lewis hums, gaze turning to the sky rather than the sight of Papyrus finally catching Frisk and proceeding to doodle all over their face with the marker. 

“I think I will explore this town some, see if there are any other ghosts, and help them if I can. Afterwards…” He trails off, getting slightly distracted by the sight of Papyrus and Frisk teaming up to try and catch Sans, who’s doing a marvelous job of popping away in the nick of time. Lewis chuckles. “After that I will try and find my friends. Arthur is probably feeling guilty, and I think I did something to Vivi the day that I died,” he continues. Toriel smiles. She had been prepared to offer the ghost a place with their strange crew if he had no other plans, but it seemed like Lewis would be fine. 

“Well, I’ll leave you a card with our cell numbers,” she starts, only to be interrupted by a sleepy Alphys. 

“Lewis,” she calls, waving something in the air. “I made you a present!” 

And that’s how Lewis came into possession of a stylish purple phone (that could get wi-fi anywhere, had unlimited everything, and may or may not have been able to turn into a jetpack), all of the monster’s numbers already programmed in. They leave that night, Frisk and Papyrus offering tearful hugs that he returns in human guise, just to impress them a little more. Toriel gives him a warm embrace, Asgore a firm handshake, and Alphys a quick handshake that turns into an even quicker hug before the tiny dinosaur flees, blushing. Undyne’s farewell is a handshake that turns into a headlock, her giving Lewis a parting noogie and extinguishing his hair for a few moments. Finally Sans is the only one left, hands in his pockets and grin on his face. 

“Well, see ya bud,” he says after a minute. “Hope you find what you’re looking for.” Somehow those are exactly the right words to make Lewis grin, feeling a tension he didn’t even know existed vanish from his shoulders. 

“Thanks for all your help, Sans,” the ghost smiles back, clapping a hand to the shorter man’s shoulder. “And I hope to hear from you soon.”

The skeleton waves him off before disappearing with a pop. There’s a brief scuffle at the sight of Sans appearing in his seat from nowhere but eventually the group drives off, the sight of Lewis waving at them growing smaller and smaller in their rearview mirror. When the van finally disappears over the horizon, Lewis turns his attention in the opposite direction. In the deepening twilight the lights of the houses are just beginning to sparkle, the town spread before him like a sprawling opportunity. Grinning, Lewis drops his human façade and takes to the skies. Tonight he doesn’t have to worry about evil or betrayers; tonight, he will fly. 

Tonight, he’s free.

**Author's Note:**

> A few explanations: 
> 
> Frisk, after their time in the Underground, is now more sensitive to soul energy and magic, which is what let her hear Lewis' soul in the first place.
> 
> After his death Lewis stuck around to protect Vivi but got distracted protecting everyone else from the evil in the cave.
> 
> Chara was a demon who infected each child as they passed through the Underground. Frisk was the only one with a soul strong enough to withstand her, and she was banished to the beyond when the barrier broke.
> 
> Monster food, being made for creatures of soul and dust, is, of course, the only food ghosts can eat, being made completely of soul. 
> 
> As for Lewis being kind of over-powered, that will be explained in either the third or fourth story of the series, some of which I've already written. I think that's it, but if there are any more questions feel free to shoot me a message or a comment!
> 
> Ciao, peeps!


End file.
